


I Wish You Were Here (I Miss You More Each Second I Breathe)

by ghostlygone



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Aftermath, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Barely any Comfort, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Panic Attacks, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Reminiscing, Sad, Sad Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-01
Updated: 2020-02-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:02:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22500652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostlygone/pseuds/ghostlygone
Summary: It's not the same now. It's different. So, very different.They're all scarred. Scarred from experiences. And they all wish it went differently.
Relationships: Avengers Team & Avengers Team, Avengers Team & Carol Danvers, Avengers Team & Guardians of the Galaxy Team
Kudos: 7





	I Wish You Were Here (I Miss You More Each Second I Breathe)

**Author's Note:**

> Title from 'Dance' by Nas  
> (Edit: Just a couple of things fixed!)
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

It's not the same after. It's different. So, very different.

They're all scarred. Scarred from experiences.

There's no more peaceful nights. The ones where Bucky and Nat would cook and Steve would lecture everybody and Tony would make sarcastic comments and Clint and Wanda and Sam played games. The ones where they would all binge Brooklyn Nine-Nine and Supernatural and Thor and Loki would throw popcorn at each other and Shuri and Peter made vine references non-stop and Pepper would sigh and roll her eyes every time with that small smile. Nights where they all fell asleep drinking hot chocolate and curled up to the closest person and the TV would be the only light.

There's no more carefree days. The ones where they would wake up to the smell of Steve's pancakes and would all eat hundreds of them topped with anything they could find and they would throw skittles and M&Ms at each other in their pyjamas. Days where they would all train for a couple of hours in the morning and cheer for the wrong team on purpose and try and distract Natasha and Steve and Clint and Bucky so they others had something to hold over their heads when they won. Ones where they would run around the tower playing tag and hide in stupid places and end up covering the employees in paint and glitter and feathers and pranking each other until Pepper was called out of her meetings and had to lock them on their floor.

Then the tower was always filled with screams and cursing and laughing and joy and life.

Now it's silent apart from the muffled sobs and pain-filled swearing.

Now the nights are filled with anguished screams and tears running down faces and sweat covered bodies tangled in sheets as they yell for help. It's now filled with the running of feet as they rush to comfort someone else and the sounds of sobbing as they relive that day over and over and over and over and over and over until it's all they can see and hear and feel and smell and breathe. Until it's the only thing they think about. Now the nights start with the survivors drinking tea in silence and eating take outs night after night. It starts with everyone tossing and turning until they eventually drift off from pure exhaustion, only to wake up to screams. Theirs or someone else's.

Now there are only bad days. Bad days and awful days. Days where they can just manage enough courage to show their face in public for the fifteen minute trip to the park for the barest amount of fresh air. Days when they all give pep talks to each other and say they're there for everyone but they're all breaking inside. And then they have awful days. Days when they don't get up, don't even open their eyes properly. Days when everyone piles into their bed and wraps them in blankets and babies them if only to get their mind off what happened. Days where little sweet Morgan has to come running in and hug them so tight that all they can do is bury their face in her hair and cry and wonder how she's so innocent and full of life.

It's after, now. It's not then anymore. And everybody knows. The criminals and evil masterminds don't attack for months after. There are no press and no paparazzi after that first one. The one where they officially announced the deaths. Nobody sees an Avenger anymore. Not unless they're about to die. Unless they're an inch away from death. It's sad, this new world. Because people have died to make it better. But it's still the same, will probably always be the same, but now it's sadder. Because they didn't need to die. There could've been another way, if only there was more time.

But they didn't get enough time. So now the Avengers hide away. Now Hawkeye hides in the vents, only coming out to comfort the others. Bucky trains and trains and trains until he can't feel or think or breathe anything but the physical pain. Pepper throws herself into running SI and watching her daughter grow up. Bruce immerses himself into finding cures and stopping disasters. Peter goes silent, he doesn't talk unless it's Russian or science. Wanda leaves with Dr Strange to learn to use her powers. She doesn't talk anymore, back to how she was in Hydra.

All the others, the Guardians, Captain Marvel, the Asgardians, the Wakandans. They go back to their people and they help each other. They all support each other. And when somebody inevitably breaks into a panic attack or a flashback everyone is instantly by their side. Because they can't afford to lose anyone else.

Not after losing them.


End file.
